


Whiskey

by JayceCarter



Series: Kinktober 2018 [11]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Being Walked In On, F/M, Kinktober 2018, Masturbation, Object Insertion, Object Penetration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-29 04:45:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16256939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JayceCarter/pseuds/JayceCarter
Summary: When Nora spends the night in Arthur's quarters, she figures there's no harm in blowing off some steam by fantasizing about a certain Elder. However, when he arrives back early and catches her, she has some explaining to do.





	Whiskey

**Author's Note:**

> Kinktober Day 11: object insertion

  
  


Nora had to admit, there were perks to power. It showed in the large quarters Arthur Maxson enjoyed aboard the Prydwen, the quarters she’d been allowed to take for the evening while he conducted an inspection at the airport. 

Normally Nora slept in Danse’s quarters, but since the Paladin was aboard for the night, Arthur had ordered her to use his instead. The reason was clear: he didn’t think she could handle herself amongst the other soldiers. The ‘real’ soldiers as Arthur saw them.

She doubted it would matter what she did, Arthur would always see her as the naive vaultie who needed his help. The fact she was faster with a pistol than anyone she’d seen didn’t seem to matter. Arthur still treated her like a fresh-faced squire, even though she was a few years his senior.

Still, the silence was nice. The snooping made her smile. The simple locks on the desk and chest were no match for her, and in moments she’d popped them open to peruse all his secrets. She read over his terminal, his emails, enjoyed consuming all his secrets. 

Not that any were that interesting. Arthur’s history was well documented, so she learned little she hadn’t already known. No, Arthur wasn’t the sort of man to keep his secrets in a room like that. What he had, those private thoughts no one knew, they were locked away in his head, and she doubted she had a lockpick to work that open. 

So instead of spending time lamenting her lack of reputation in the eyes of the young Elder, Nora enjoyed her evening. An open book rested in her lap, a bottle of whiskey pressed between her thighs. She wasn’t much of a drinker, but the tiny sips on the bottle reminded her of home. It reminded her of drinking in the evenings with Nate when they’d sit on their back patio under the stars and talk about their day. That, of course, would shift when Nate would give her a look. It was that look that happened when you’d been married a while, when there wasn’t the ‘will they, won’t they’ game of seduction anymore. And the answer was always a yes from Nora, who craved the touch and the closeness and the warmth.

Nate would pull her in close, his lips playing against hers, his hands stroking up her sides. Nora shifted, the edge of the whiskey bottle rubbing against the underwear she wore to sleep in. It had her shuddering.

Before she could stop herself, she set a hand on the bottle and pressed the edge tighter against her, her mind drifting further into that space between fantasy and memory. Nate was a great lover. Of all his faults, and he’d had many, that area hadn’t been one. He’d been gentle but persistent, his fingers slipping into her, his lips exploring each inch of her. He’d taste the sweat as it rolled down her breast, then capture a nipple between his lips.

Her hips rocked forward and back against the bottle, the action causing her underwear to rub against her clit. 

Her eyes slid closed in the dim room, her back against the pillows on Arthur’s bed, the entire room smelling like him, a strange comfort. 

Before she considered it, Arthur’s face replaced Nate’s in her mind. Nate’s brown eyes gave way the Arthur’s blue; Nate’s light hair melted into Arthur’s dark brown. Even the clean-shaven edges of her husband crumbled beneath Arthur’s beard, his scar. 

But in the silences and the loneliness of the night, Nora let it happen. She pictured Arthur there, on his knees, those large hands and scarred knuckles on her thighs. He kissed his way up her thighs, the rumbled voice too deep and too old for his years, but they crawled into her mind and had her hips lifting faster. 

She imagined him taking his fingers and pressing into her, thought about how thick they were, how they’d stretch her. Her own fingers were thin, small, but his would cause her to gasp and moan. 

The picture in her mind made her desperate and empty. She threw away the concern, the humiliation, the nerves. The door was locked, and only Arthur had keys, Arthur who was both down at the airport and between her thighs. She shifted the whiskey bottle, ensuring the cork was pressed closed tight and wiped it once on the blanket. Her tongue wrapped around it as she sucked the bottle past her lips, toying with it for a moment, imagining herself on her knees before Arthur, the sting when he’d pull her hair so real she whined around the bottle.

When sure there remained no alcohol left on the bottle, since lubricating it wasn’t needed with how wet her underwear already were, she arched her back and brought the bottle between her spread thighs.

Her fingers hooked into the crotch of her panties and pulled them to the side, the mouthpiece of the bottle pressing against her drenched sex. She teased herself first, lost to her own imagination.

Arthur would tease her. He would grip his cock and run it along her slit, rocking his hips forward but never giving her what she wanted. He wasn’t like Nate, not a passive man, not one to follow another’s lead. No, he would do as he wanted, and that idea had her pressing the bottle to her clit.

She shivered at the stimulation and the way she wanted more, at the filthy thrill of it all. Somehow getting off in Arthur’s bed, with his bottle of whiskey, while imagining him had her already close. Maybe it was wrong, or dirty, or perverse, but she didn’t care right then.

Her legs spread wider as she pressed the bottleneck into her. She didn’t go fast or hard. A glass bottle lacked the give a cock had, and the last thing she needed was to end up having to see Cade about an injury. 

She’d never live that down.

So she didn’t take herself hard, didn’t go fast. She held the bottle between two fingers, sinking it in and pulling it back with slow motions while her thumb stroked her clit. The weight of the bottle rested on the bed, and it angled to bottle to rub across her g-spot. 

Nora flexed her feet against the building pleasure, against each wave as it grew, against the tightening in her body that she needed so desperately to snap. 

In her head, Arthur rested over her. He gripped a thigh in his hand to give him better access, to go harder, to have her deeper. He’d hold her still, and for once, he’d know she could take it. 

“Arthur,” she moaned into the quiet space, knowing the thick walls would keep it from traveling. Just whispering his name pulled a gasp. “Yes, Arthur, harder.” Her back arched into the thrusts of the bottle, her free hand coming up to grasp her breast, to pinch and roll her left nipple. 

A hand set on hers, another on her hip.

Nora’s eyes flew open to find the blue eyes she’d been fantasizing about staring down at her. She tried to move, but he kept her still, his hand wrapped around the bottle. He didn’t thrust it, just stared at her with that face, blank of anything she could use to know what he was thinking.

Her mouth opened and the words poured out. “I’m sorry, Arthur. I didn’t think you’d be back; I had no idea you’d walk in-”

He silenced her with a kiss, softer than she’d have expected. It startled her to silence even after he broke the quick show of affection. “I knocked, but you failed to answer.” His hand moved, but instead of thrusting the bottle, he twisted it slightly. It dragged against her walls, pulling a stuttered breath from her. 

“I’m sorry-”

“-I’m not. I don’t think I’ve ever been greeted with as nice a surprise when arriving back unexpectedly.” He rotated his wrist to twist the bottle the other direction, and that time the heel of his palm brushed her clit.

Nora’s hand flew up to his shoulders to cling to him at that, giving away any semblance of control or dignity. Then again, he’d walked in on her moaning his name and using his alcohol bottle to masturbate with. Perhaps she’d lost dignity already. 

“I want to help you finish. May I?” He stared down at her, eyes so intense it terrified her. 

She could only nod in response.

His hand shifted, pulling the bottle back before thrusting it in with the same slow and careful thrusts she’d used. How long had he been watching her? “You look lovely like this, Nora. When I walked in, and you had no idea, you were without inhibitions. Of course, I doubt I can drink whiskey ever again.” 

“Sor-”

He rubbed his thumb against her clit in a hard stroke. “I don’t want to hear you say sorry about that. I won’t be able to because anytime I see a whiskey bottle I’ll only be able to think of how it looked sliding into you. It would be difficult to explain why every time someone had a whiskey bottle, I got hard.” 

Nora let her nails dig into his coat as he leaned over her, the same position she imagined. In fact, she lifted one knee to mimic it before pulling him in for another kiss. The bottle didn’t feel like he would. It didn’t give at all, it wasn’t warm, it wasn’t right, but she still let herself pretend it was.

He used the bottle while stroking her clit, his kiss breaking only to offer filthy encouragement. “Believe me, the next time you are naked in my bed, I will fill you with more than this. I’ll have you stretched around my cock, Nora, and you’ll moan my name while I take you.” 

“Next time?” She forced the question past her lips, her mind too foggy to ask what she really was asking. There would be a next time?

His chuckle warmed her ear as he angled the bottle so it stroked right over her g-spot, zeroing in based on her reactions. “Yes, there will be a next time, I hope. Many more times. Now stop thinking and let go.”

When she came, she leaned up and bit down on his shoulder. The coat protected him from even feeling it, the leather scent and taste filling her senses. He pulled the bottle from her just as she started to come, but pressed his fingers in, instead.

Even better. His fingers curled inside her, thick and callused like she knew they’d be. Her body clenched around them, her hips lifting harder against him.

He eased her through the orgasm, and it wasn’t until she started to relax she realized she’d called out his name. He settled beside her, but his fingers stayed inside her. 

Neither spoke for a while, her heavy breathing the only sound in the still dim room.

“I thought you were supposed to be gone,” Nora finally said, feeling less brave than she tried to pretend.

“I was. There was an issue with scheduling, so we moved the inspection to next week. I must say, this has been my favorite scheduling screw up.” 

Nora licked her lips which had gone dry while trying to come up with some way to save face. “I’ll go sleep in the barracks and give you your bed back.” She went to sit up, but his hand twitched, making it impossible to ignore the two fingers he still had inside her. 

“I offered you my bed for the night, and I have not rescinded that offer.”

“I can take care of myself, you know.” Her temper flashed at the idea he still thought her useless.

His dark brow rose. “Clearly, you can take care of yourself.” 

She ignored the heat on her cheeks and shoved once at his chest in a push that was more a show than an attempt to get him to let her go. “I’m serious. I’m not useless. I can sleep where the other soldiers do. I don’t need you looking after me.”

His lips pressed together, tipping down at the edges. He pulled his fingers from her, a slow withdraw that had a needy whine escaping her lips. He didn’t pull away, though. Instead, he cupped his hand over her cunt in a possessive grasp. “I don’t have you sleep in Danse’s room, or mine, because I worry you can’t take care of yourself. I do it because I don’t care to think of you around men whom you might take an interest in. I’m a selfish man, and I kept hoping you’d realize my interest in you, and that close quarters might lead to something happening. I suppose I harbor my own little fantasies about you knocking on my door in the middle of the night, looking for company. In fact, if you’d wandered into my room many nights, you’d have found me in a similar position, with my hand around my cock and you in my mind.” 

Nora’s eyes widened at the confession, quiet like he didn’t like putting himself out there, like he didn’t care for admitting anything. Still, he had, for her. “So you still want me to sleep here tonight?” 

He leaned in to steal another kiss, his body pressing against hers, an obvious erection grinding against her hip. He broke the kiss with a smile. “Tonight. Every night. Whatever I can get, Nora.” 

  
  



End file.
